


Cheesy Couple Things

by naasad



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual Enjolras, Feels, Ferre is the Mom Friend (TM), Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 02:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15571797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naasad/pseuds/naasad
Summary: It's cruel, Enjolras thinks, that he only realizes he has romantic feelings once Grantaire no longer has platonic ones.





	Cheesy Couple Things

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](https://grantairesuggestions.tumblr.com/post/175317925913/how-do-you-feel-about-the-fact-that-grantaire-has) from the Les Mis suggestion blogs:
> 
>  

Grantaire is laughing with his whole body, head thrown back, loud and disruptive.

Enjolras grinds his teeth. He’s trying to concentrate.

Marius looks up and follows his gaze, then smiles. “I haven’t ever seen him so happy – in this life or the last.”

“I wish he would do it quieter,” Enjolras mutters.

Marius ignores him. “I guess it’s done him some good, then, giving up and moving on, getting over you, so to speak.”

Enjolras’ breath catches in his throat and it feels as if his heart has suddenly turned up missing.

“Enjolras?” Marius asks, slightly more observant in this life.

“He said that?” Enjolras asks, trying to decipher this feeling that makes him want to disappear – to curl up under a warm blanket and never be a part of humanity ever again.

Marius looks more puzzled than usual. “Well, yes.”

“Oh.” Enjolras stands with the vague excuse of heading for the restrooms, but instead makes a beeline for the side door and the private alley just beyond. So that was it, then, he thinks. True, he’d always thought of Grantaire as an annoyance, but never just that. They’d died beside each other, hadn’t they? They’re friends, at the very least.

He is still struggling to breathe when a voice cuts through his foggy thoughts.

“Enjolras!”

He opens his eyes – when had he closed them? – and sees Combeferre crouching in front of him. “’Ferre,” he gasps, and there is a wetness on his cheeks. He’s crying?

“You’re having a panic attack, Enjolras. I need you to look at me and breathe, okay?”

Enjolras nods and tries his best, it’s so long before he manages. He slumps into his best friend’s arms, still weeping. He can’t stop.

“What’s wrong?” Combeferre asks, always so concerned.

It’s childish, he knows. “Grantaire doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

Combeferre stills as if he knows something. “Did he say that?”

“Marius says he did, and Marius can’t lie to save his life.”

“True.” Combeferre holds him close, strokes his shoulders deep in thought. “This isn’t a typical reaction from you.”

It’s not a question. “No.”

“Do you know why?”

Enjolras pulls away, wipes at his face with his sleeves, takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself, get his thoughts in order. “He was – he was there when we died the first time, I wanted him to be there the second, too.”

“Holding hands?” Combeferre asks.

“Shut up,” Enjolras says on reflex, then buries his face in his hands. “Yes.”

“And anything else?”

“Now you’re teasing me.”

“Maybe.” Combeferre hums. “How long have you been taking Grantaire for granted like that?”

Enjolras’ head snaps up. “I haven’t!”

“Assuming you have a future with someone and not talking to them about it is taking them for granted,” Combeferre points out.

Enjolras pouts and shrugs. “Forever, I guess. It’s not like it matters.” He sighs and leans back against the wall, runs a hand down his face and says it aloud again, like maybe it will hurt less this time. “Grantaire doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

“We’re friends?”

Enjolras jumps and glares accusingly at Combeferre before slowly, painfully turning to look Grantaire in the eyes. “Well, yes,” he mumbles, tugging nervously at his sleeves. “We’ve always been friends. But – but you’ve said you don’t want that and I’ll respect that. I can’t make you be my friend.”

Combeferre smirks. “Learned that lesson the hard way, didn’t we?”

Enjolras not-at-all-subtly elbows him in the ribs.

Grantaire looks amused. “We are so coming back to that later.” He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Of course, I want to be your friend, Enjolras. I thought I was just the obnoxious drunk at the back of meetings that you tolerate.”

“No!” Enjolras looks horrified, eyes wide. “No, of course, you are my friend! I want to be your friend! If – only if you do, too.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be my friend, actually, but I already said I want to be yours.” Grantaire winces. “I mean yes, I do. Marius… wasn’t talking about that.”

Enjolras frowns. “Well, what was he talking about? He very clearly used the phrases ‘giving up’, ‘moving on’, and ‘getting over’. What else could that possibly mean?”

“Oh, my,” Combeferre laughs into his hand.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, you can’t be this blind!” Grantaire throws his hands up in the air in defeat. “I have a crush on you, Enjolras! A huge, embarrassing crush that’s made me act the fool on more than one occasion, that I just can’t get rid of, no matter how many times I try!”

Enjolras gapes. “You,” he points at Grantaire, “have a crush on,” he points at himself, “me?”

Grantaire laughs bitterly. “I’ve had a crush on you since 1831 when I first stumbled into the second floor of the Musain and laid eyes on you.”

Enjolras blinks in shock, speechless for maybe the first time in either of his lives.

Combeferre very-subtly elbows him in the ribs.

“But you have a crush on me? As in currently?”

Grantaire gestures uselessly. “Yes,” he finally says.

Enjolras lunges forward and hugs him.

Grantaire lurches off balance, but recovers and awkwardly pats Enjolras’ back. “There, there?”

“I’m asexual,” Enjolras says.

“Okay?”

“And I don’t have a crush on you.”

Grantaire’s face falls. “Okay.”

“But I want to love you.” He squeezes Grantaire tight around the middle. “I will love you if you’ll let me.”

Grantaire folds over him almost, holding him close and burying his nose in his golden curls. “Okay,” he says, almost crying. “I already love you.”

Enjolras pulls away and looks Grantaire straight in the eye. “I want to take you on a date.”

Grantaire nods. “Okay.”

“I want to do cheesy couple things with you like taking you to the movies and buying you a single red rose on the way home then cuddling with you on the couch with cups of hot cocoa once we get there and kissing you senseless.”

Grantaire raises an eyebrow. “You can do one of those things right now.”

Enjolras does.


End file.
